This morning I went to buy a cable to get the plow on the Jeep working - the cable releases the plow to the down position, and the one that I used last year broke. I headed to the auto parts store that I’ve been a customer of literally since before I could drive (I purchased my first car at 15). This is one of those true “manly” places; threadbare carpet, a door that sticks open if you push it too far, overcooked - but free - coffee on the burner at the end of the counter and bikini girl calendars up on the wall. They don’t worry about cleaning much here, parts in dusty boxes still work just fine, thank you very much.
This small store is one of a chain, locally-owned and operated until about 5 years ago when it was bought out by a national chain. I held my breath when the buy-out happened, but they kept things pretty much the same, just the name on the storefront and receipts changed.
The guy behind the counter, his name is Dan. Dan’s been here, finding my (often obscure) parts for a least a dozen of the 20 years I’ve been coming here. He knows me, and knows the vehicles I’m maintaining. I don’t have to give him the litany of Jeep history, and explain that yes, the Buick engine is what Jeep used in 1966. Dan’s the kind of guy that will look at the thing you just brought to the counter, shake his head, tell you to put it back and go down the road to the hardware store where they have something that will work better and cheaper. I know Dan well enough to know that he’s got grown daughters, Wednesday is his day off, and the place he’d always rather be is on a lake with a fishing pole in his hand. He knows that I’m a Jeep nut, if someone comes in looking for old Jeep parts he’ll give them my name with their reciept. If it’s a slow day in the store I’ll often end up standing there, my parts paid for on the counter, just shooting the breeze, watching the folks go in and out of the other stores in this little suburban strip mall. Sometimes there would be a group of us, all car enthusiasts of one flavor or another, trading tales of vehicles past and present.
Today, however, was different. The store windows were papered over, with “We’ve Moved” hastily scribbled in big black letters. The “official” letterhead hanging in the windows contained the expected corporate party line, “cutting costs”, “most product came from the downtown store anyway”....whatever. Essentially some bean counter in a corporate office somewhere out of state looked at some sales and labor cost numbers, looked at the few miles distance between this store and the downtown store, and made the decision to close this location.
I worry about Dan - they’d be silly to let him go, but you never know these days. If some young green behind the ears counter guy costs $2 less per hour Dan could be pounding the pavement next week.
I feel suddenly like I’m mourning. I’m mourning the loss of the last store that showed how personal and rewarding the retail experience could be. Often I hear big-city folks talk fondly of the bakery they buy bread at every day, and I always thought of this parts store the same way. It was more than a place to by parts, it was a place to experience community with other local car guys—a concept that I’m sure is lost on that corporate bean-counter.
Even if Dan stays working at the downtown location, it’ll be different. The downtown store doesn’t have the same atmosphere. It doesn’t encourage lingering - it’s a busy place with at least 6 guys behind the counter on a typical day, and you really can’t pick which guy you work with. And honestly, getting to and from downtown Holland from where I live can be tough - lots of traffic and one-way streets pretty much guarantees that the convenience of a different local store is going to win out. No, I’m afraid now my car parts buying experience will be like all other retail experiences—anonymous, no shared history, and no continuity. Every time I’ll have to start over with a new counter guy, trying to explain why I need parts for an ‘85 Jeep even though I just drove up in a ‘66. Or that yes, to find the right number for the Rambler part he might have to give up on the computer search and go back to the good old fashioned books.
Northside Holland Auto Value (Lamb Auto still to us old timers) - you will be missed! Dan - here’s hoping you didn’t get “downsized”.
And the plow cable? I actually went to the downtown store. And waited in line with 2 other customers. After standing there for 10 minutes and not even being acknowedged by either of the two counter guys I walked out.
NAPA was just down the road.
Comments are closed, but you can read the comments other people left.
sparky on December 06, 2003
MB82 on December 06, 2003
John O on December 06, 2003
bill on December 07, 2003
Worth Sparks on December 07, 2003